


Paradise Looks Like A Lie

by kayura_sanada



Category: Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Misunderstandings, Tony Deserves Good Things, WAFF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-05
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2019-03-27 12:03:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13880478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kayura_sanada/pseuds/kayura_sanada
Summary: Tony senses something’s off with Steve.





	Paradise Looks Like A Lie

“Captain Rogers in currently taking a shower,” Friday told him.

Tony hesitated. His fists curled into the covers around his waist. He pulled them up, shielding his bare chest from the chilly air. He heard Friday turn the heat on a bare moment later. His gaze strayed toward the door before he forced it straight ahead. Once again, he told himself it was none of his business. Don’t ask, don’t ask… “How is he?”

Friday sighed. Audibly. His AI audibly sighed. At him. “His vitals are normal.”

“Specifics, Friday,” he ordered, because if he was going to hell, then he was earning the trip. “Blood pressure. Heart rate. Breathing patterns. Brain waves. Chemical balance. The whole nine yards.”

So she did. She gave him readings on Steve’s breathing rate – slightly higher than normal, but still in the safe zone – and chemical secretions – a higher dopamine and serotonin count, also perfectly normal at the moment, she insisted – and even went so far as to recite his bone structure and blood-iron count. He could practically hear the sound of her mocking him. Reading after reading, until finally he raised his hand and said, “maybe he’s a skrull? Or been body-swapped? Mind-controlled?”

Her sigh then could probably be heard around the world. “Really, boss?”

He pressed his lips together. Shifted under the blankets. His body still tingled, bruises likely forming on his skin. “You have to admit there’s something off with him. Or else why do this?” Another, much louder sigh. Soon she would break her speakers. Either that or the house would soon feel like it was sitting on top of a fault line. He leaned up where he sat, pushing away the pillows beneath him. He discarded the covers, no matter how exposed it made him feel, no matter the chill that swept over his chest, his nipples. He ignored his own shiver. He took a deep breath and stood. “It would make more sense. Maybe the Purple Man – or a mutant? Those dopamine levels could indicate some sort of drug, or a pheromone, or maybe even Red Skull did something?”

“What would he gain from forcing Captain Rogers to–”

“Destruction of morale,” Tony said immediately. He hurried to the bureau to grab a pair of underwear. His hands shook as he pulled them out of the drawer. “Self-loathing. Guilt. Or something else. Maybe someone’s trying to use him to get to me? Or–” He stopped, one foot in the air, underwear stretched in his hands. “What if it’s me?” he said, almost to himself. His voice sharpened. “Friday, scan me.”

His AI responded a half-beat late. “Sorry, boss?”

He thought again. “No, you’re right. Can you even tell if I’m dreaming or under some sort of hallucinogenic? Would it even matter? I likely wouldn’t realize you’re saying I’m under the influence. Even if I somehow managed to send you some message – guessing you haven’t even found the signs yourself yet – would the order even transmit properly?” He yanked his underwear up and held a hand to his head. “If I’m sleeping or delusional, is there even anything I can do?”

In the bathroom, the sounds of running water suddenly stopped. Tony, hand out to open the pants drawer, nearly broke the damn handle off.

“Boss, there is nothing wrong with you. You have no drugs in your system, your readings are perfectly normal for your state. And I can assure you, you are awake. Your cranial activity leaves no room for doubt.” Of course, if he was hallucinating, or dreaming, wouldn’t he imagine her assuring him of this false world’s reality? “Ah, Captain Rogers.”

Tony froze. Very, very slowly, he turned toward the bathroom. Steve stepped out, those long fingers busy tying off the towel hanging low on his waist. The cloth showed off those sharp juts of bone just before the start of those hips. Those wet, glistening hips.

For god’s sake, get a hold of yourself!

Steve frowned at him. For a moment, his heart raced, thinking Steve had come back to himself. Then he spoke. “Aren’t you going to want to shower?”

The man was not calling him on his actions. He wasn’t showing the least amount of disgust or disdain. If anything, those furrowing brows looked a little like he was unsure. Hurt. Tony raked a hand through his hair, trying ineffectually to smooth it. “Steve. I’m so sorry.”

That face crumpled. Tony flinched. “You regret it.”

He closed his eyes. Turned his head. Several deep breaths couldn’t even begin to stop the heavy, squelching feel of his heart as he faced this. “I’ll figure out what’s wrong, I promise.”

A short pause. “I don’t understand.”

It was the voice of the soldier. The man who stepped into battle and gave orders without hesitation, even knowing that the orders he gave might mean someone didn’t make it back. The voice of a man prepared for the worst.

“I’m so sorry. I should have – I wasn’t thinking.” His blood was thick oil in his veins, clogging his heart. “I’ll fix this. If it’s real. Somehow.” He caught the furrowed brows, the scowl, on Steve’s face. He’d always reacted to hurt or confusion with anger. That, at least, was consistent.

“If I may elucidate?” Friday said. Tony held his breath. When he didn’t object, she continued. “Mr. Stark fears either you or he has been compromised by an enemy.”

Tony flinched. “I should have realized it sooner,” he said, the words thick on his tongue. The very idea of what he was saying, of what he’d done, made him want to vomit. “I-I’ve had Friday start scans. I’ll–”

“Tony.” Steve put those wide hands on his shoulders. He heaved in a breath. So warm. He shuddered. He could remember what those hands felt like on his chest, his cheeks, his ass. He could still feel the imprint of them on his hips, digging in deep enough to purple his skin. He knew how those fingers measured up to his dick, knew the breadth and length of them, the texture of that thumb over the slit of his cock.

Thank everything he’d managed to slip on his pants before Steve got out of the shower. It was not acceptable to show a boner when he’d just gotten finished raping the man.

“Tony.” Steve’s fingers dug in, just tight enough to pull Tony from his thoughts. He gritted his teeth to keep from showing what it meant to him to have a nearly-naked Steve touching him. Looking at him with wide, bottomless blue eyes, those lips twitching as if unsure whether to smile or frown. “You don’t think this is real?”

He searched Steve’s gaze. He didn’t even have the chance to respond before Steve pulled him into a hug. That body, that bare chest, touching flush against his own, made his blood rush south so fast he wobbled where he stood. In true Harlequin romance fashion, Steve gripped him tight, ensuring he didn’t fall. His heart thundered so hard it roared in his ears.

“I can’t prove reality to you.” Steve slid his hands up Tony’s arms to his neck, his thumbs caressing lightly against the sides of his jaw. Not forcing him to look up, but asking him to do so. He did. Steve’s gaze caught his, as it always had. “But we are real, Tony. You. And me. And right now.”

Tony was completely ready for the kiss. It was so obvious, and even when Steve synced their lips up, he still waited a few moments to make sure Tony was on-board. It was stupid little things like that that had tricked him to begin with. Not many people questioned Tony Stark’s consent.

He tilted his head back, just enough to show he was waiting. Steve leaned forward and took Tony’s lips with his.

He’d been expecting something that might claim him, or something that might try to soothe. Definitely tongue. In the end, the only thing he’d gotten right was Steve’s hand moving into his hair, his fingers wrapping around the strands at the nape of his neck, his palm cupping the back of his head. His lips were soft, still damp from the shower, his breath sharp with the minty scent of Tony’s toothpaste. He hadn’t even left to get his own things from his room. Tony’s heart jumped. So did other things.

He gripped those wet shoulders, slid his hands down that bare back and along the lines of muscle to those shoulder blades. His breath hitched in his throat, loud enough for Steve to hear it even if he wasn’t able to taste it, touch it with his very lips. As if Steve himself had sucked the air from him. His fingers trembled at the feel of jagged flesh – a scar. He knew this scar. He’d seen it carved into Steve’s flesh, had seen the blood on the uniform. He had already known what this chest looked like before today. He’d seen Steve working out, sometimes in the kitchen while Tony had made coffee. It meant nothing.

Steve breathed in. Out. Tony felt it. Smelled the mint on his breath. He imagined what his own breath smelled like and wrinkled his nose. “This will only be solved in time, won’t it?” Steve asked. He huffed. It might have been a laugh. It might have been exasperation. It might have been something worse. Tony wasn’t sure. “All right.” But instead of backing away as Tony expected, he crowded closer. The soft fabric of the towel scratched against his pants. He felt the cloth slip around Steve’s hips. His breath caught. Steve licked at his lips and grinned. “Tony. I fully consent. I want to have sex with you again.” Steve’s free hand pulled Tony’s hips closer, until he could feel the evidence of Steve’s arousal for himself. “How about you?”

His lips trembled open. “Friday?”

“No abnormal activity found, boss,” she said, her answer immediate. Steve ran his fingers through the hair curling around his temple. Tony was lost.

“I want you,” he said, confessing to the man before him. The one he desperately wanted to be real. “I have for years. Despite everything.”

Steve turned them to the bed, his bright blue irises suddenly swallowed by his pupils. It turned his face almost dark. “I’ve wanted you, too.” Tony’s knees hit the back of the bed. He clawed into Steve’s shoulders to keep his balance. “For so long, I can’t remember when awe turned into desire.” Steve gripped Tony’s hips on either side and lifted him up, forcing his legs to bend. His stomach burst into butterflies at the show of strength. “I’ll be happy to prove it to you again.”

Cloth shifted. Tony heard something fall to the floor. His gaze slipped down just in time to watch Steve’s towel pool around his ankles.

He wasn’t about to say no.


End file.
